


cinnamon.

by blurrytyler



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurrytyler/pseuds/blurrytyler
Summary: the summer of 2012 is engraved in his head.





	cinnamon.

**Author's Note:**

> this is really short because it was originally a concept i posted on instagram. it got a lot of attention so i thought i would share. hope you enjoy!

josh smelt of brown sugar and cinnamon; despite many years elapsing, tyler couldn’t help but remember his specific scent. his breath though almost always smelt of wine tyler knew he had stolen from his parents cellar to share with one another on those late nights. the two would sit in the tall grass, swigging from the bottle and passing it to one another while rambling about the problems with humanity, how our decency as a species is dwindling. josh was aware like that; he was always observant, always knew someone’s personality by simple encounters or general observations. tyler wish he could understand how josh could process and read someone so quickly, but generally he was almost always right.

josh, from what tyler had gathered that brief summer, was only afraid of two things: attachment, yet, ironically, abandonment. some nights josh would reveal only a glimpse of these fears while the two would lay on his porch, drowning out tyler’s overpowering thoughts with the cicadas and josh’s comforting low voice. tyler was unsure how josh always knew what to say, but he always did. 

though josh never expressed it, tyler knew he was afraid of the leaves turning brown and tyler would disappear back to school, leaving josh in the dullness of the town. tyler knew this by the phone calls late at night, where josh spoke with a shaky voice asking him to come over. he never told him why his face was puffy and red, but as tyler’s hands were tangled in his hair impulsively dying it a brand new color, tyler could tell josh needed him, but would never tell.

as tyler left josh and all his troubles once the fall rolled around, he sent letters that almost always had coffee ring stains. he would never admit that he missed him, but the drunk letters were all tyler needed to validate that he did. over time, the letters began to dwindle, and josh became nearly a faint memory. he was almost too beautiful to be true, like a mere fantasy tyler had or a distant dream he could only partly remember. 

tyler will never forget josh dun’s name or the smell of brown sugar and cinnamon.


End file.
